Spontaneity on Metro
When asked if the Washington Metro is “safe,” this is how I’ve responded:
Yes, absolutely. Inside the system–on trains and in stations, generally anywhere inside the faregates, the system is safe for everyone at all hours. I even consider the station platform areas to be safe for those stations that are in neighborhoods that tend towards rough. The system was designed and built in the 1970s, and has a much cleaner, space-age, modernist feel than the older systems of New York, Chicago, or Boston. The stations are open and airy, creating far fewer places for hoodlums to hide. Almost all the entrances and exits are supervised at all times by a station manager: there are no cage-like revolving door exits and no lonely staircases framed by rusting steel girders. On the trains, its very rare to encounter a bum or panhandler or street preacher or some sketchy guy selling socks and batteries.
Metro’s first general manager was a retired army general, Jackson Graham, whose military background contributed much to the culture that grew around Metro. Metro is safe and comfortable, and clean and uniform, and slightly dull. There are no abandoned stations or little-known gems or interesting or historic artwork. Metro is straightforward: unlike New Yorkers, who can have endless discussions about the most efficient way to get from one part of Manhattan to another, Metro riders have little lore to learn and share. Riding Metro is, generally, uneventful.
So we were pleasantly surprised today when a talented accordionist boarded our Metro train and played as we rode. Like most Washingtonians, it took me a while to realize how fortunate we were, and what a joyous addition to an otherwise cold and gloomy day his music was. (Read Post columnist Gene Weingarten’s brilliant social experiment, to see how Washingtonians react to a busking Joshua Bell.) (See also the followup discussion, which describes the unimaginative intransigence of Metro in preparations for the experiment.)
The accordionist rode a few stops, by which point I’d lost any unexpected-event-induced grumpiness, and I happily contributed when he came by with his outstretched hat. He was very gracious, smiling at our son and playing a few notes for him. While he was playing, I took a picture.
3 comments
I liked it when musicians played and breakdancers broke on the subway. That about sums it up. Happy Holidays!
As a former T rider, there are two things I still miss about Boston’s creaky subway:
1. musicians on the station platform.
2. being able to eat on the system.
Some great Boston area muscians have released album-length cd’s of recording from inside a T Station. And no, I have to admit I don’t miss how dirty the T could be, my hunger pangs aside.
Thanks for the link. It was a great experiment written up in a great article. There’s one street musician that stands out in mind — it’s an older gentleman who played some great toe-tapping tunes on his clarinet. When I first heard him, I didn’t want to get on the train to leave. I think it was at the Harvard Square T stop, but it could very well have been at Downtown Crossing. Thanks again.
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